White Light
by Lord Darth Master
Summary: First in the Origin Series. Revan, the son of a criminal merchant on Deralia, is discovered by the Jedi Order and trained as one of their most promising knights. Background story for The Darkest Lord and all future works.
1. Discovery

**White Light**

**Chapter I: Discovery**

Roars of thunderous outcries exploded in the crowded senate chambers at the governor's words. The old politician cringed at the outbursts that were going off all around him. Citizens of the planet Deralia of various species were screaming their protests at what they believed to be the worst of several unjust political statutes that had been passed by the senate. All of the politicians in the room were uncertain of what to do. The multitude of angry citizens that were spewing a symphony of undecipherable complaints was growing impatient and more restless with each passing moment.

One particular citizen, a human man around the age of twenty-nine, happened to be standing near the door of the large chamber. In frustration, he turned away from the increasingly unstable crowd and left the room. The capital building, which he was located in, was nearly vacant as a result of the political gathering that was taking place. He passed very few people as he was leaving, other than the staff that typically occupied the various offices.

When he finally got outside of the building, he walked to the parking structure, where his speeder was located, nearly indistinguishable amongst the various expensive vehicles that the wealthy class of Deralia owned. He drew the ignition chip from his pocket and walked over to his own speeder. He keyed in the four digit combination that unlocked the door and heard the electronic mechanism in the door activate. Once he was inside of the speeder, he programmed the machine to take him home, where his wife was eagerly awaiting word of the days events. After the directions were set and the speeder was ready for launch, he inserted the ignition chip, which was no bigger than a small metal coin that could be found on the uncivilized outer rim planets, into its receptacle. The engine silently came alive and the repulsorlift vehicle shot up into the air.

Barren de Turk, one of the most wealthy and powerful merchants on Deralia sighed as he leaned back in the seat of his speeder, oblivious to the traffic around him. Due to the recently developed SMART technology that had been developed on Coruscant and distributed throughout the Core Worlds, drivers were no longer necessary for speeders. The occupants were able to simply relax and attend to other matters while their transports traveled on autopilot. De Turk often found this to be advantageous, seeing as how he neither wanted to pay to hire a driver, nor did he want to concentrate his energies on navigating through the complex weave of aircrafts that darted through the skies of the metropolitan sectors of the planet.

Instead, de Turk preferred to lean back and open up a comm. channel between himself and one of his associates or close friends. Today, he chose to contact one of the latter. He scrolled through his contacts list using a blue colored three dimensional touch interface until he came upon the picture of a miniature Twi'lek woman. His fingers absently entered his personal password and placed the call. A moment later, the still imagine of the Twi'lek was replaced by a more animated one. The woman was still the same size as the hologram that had represented her moments before, but the air that she gave off was far more distinguished. She was dressed in rich, eloquent garments, fit for only those of the noblest class. The natural blue hue of the holographic system made it difficult to tell the color of her clothes, or even her skin for that matter. The man who had contacted her, however, needed no reminder of the woman. He was very much aware of her physical appearance, having been intimate with the Twi'lek on multiple occasions. Her skin was a very pale blue color, indicating that she had been born in the eastern hemisphere of the planet Ryloth or that her ancestry could be traced back to that location. She adorned herself with fancy ornamentations that did little to accent her natural beauty, but called a great deal of attention to her. For example, the dangling silver earrings that she wore would jingle as she walked, causing all eyes to turn to her when she entered a room. The tips of both tails of her lekku were adorned with black tassels, which were actually quite unattractive. An oversized and gaudy necklace hung around her neck, which probably cost the buyer hundreds of credits, yet was not very attractive.

Barren de Turk snickered at the woman, entertaining a plethora of adulterous notions within his head as the two exchanged formalities. Once they had finished greeting one another, the merchant quickly moved on to his point.

"My wife will be leaving for the capital sector this evening," he informed her, letting the alien woman draw her own conclusions.

She flashed him a coy smile and turned away shyly. "And your son?" she asked with slight disdain in her voice.

"He will not bother us," the nobleman assured her.

"Excellent. I will inform my father that I have been summoned to attend another lecture at the university then."

Having solidified his plans for the evening, Barren felt no need to continue the conversation, nor did the Twi'lek woman. "I shall see you this evening then, Darling," he said to her.

She gave him a seductive smile and nodded. "I'll see you then, my love," she responded.

Barren de Turk cut the transmission, satisfied with himself for the moment. Still, there was much work to be done before he could retire for the evening with the alien girl. He needed to consult with his wife in regards to the political issues that surrounded the planet. The governors new decree to crack down on illegal trade activity could become problematic for the merchant class in the near future. While it was true that Barren did have a vast trade empire beneath him that was filled with legal goods and products that could all be sold for a high profit, he hadn't been satisfied with his annual income. He had turned his attention to more financially beneficial business, which had caused his career to bloom almost overnight.

Spice trade was highly profitable, despite the seriousness of the crime. Illegal spice was getting harder and harder to control each year within the Republic. Deralia, a planet that was located near the center of the galaxy and in the heart of the civilized sector of the Republic, happened to be one of the few remaining planets that was still able to harvest new spices each year. The planet's vast agricultural land provided nutrient filled soil, which was perfect for producing the greedy weeds. Although hundreds of miles of land had been robbed of all minerals due to the harvest's draining effects, more and more fields were planted each year. Two vast continents, which spanned thousands of miles, would provide nearly a lifetime supply of spice for the planet before being depleted.

Of course this practice had to be hidden from the inter-planetary government, but it was well worth the risk. While one end of each continent was being used to produce illegal goods, the other produced various fruits and vegetables that could be traded legally with other planets. Inspections, which were a rare occurrence, had never alerted the Republic to any unlawful activity. Thus, Deralia's crime life flourished.

Barren de Turk was just one of countless crime lords, albeit he was one of the most powerful. The influence he wielded within the planetary senate and within the black market was unparalleled. Had it not been for this new governor's gallant fantasies about putting an end to corruption, life would have continued normally. Instead, the criminal underworld would be forced to go into remission and operate under much more difficult circumstances. It made the merchant sick just to think about it. After years of easy living, a single politician had the power to rip his entire empire apart with a single decree. It was infuriating.

The speeder ride ended as the young criminal continued to ponder his predicament. He exited his vehicle and entered the grounds of his mansion. Two security droids turned to him as he approached the door and greeted him kindly, though their blaster rifles remained in standard ready positions. Without having to answer any questions, the droids allowed Barren to enter before bidding him a good day. The door to his house slid open as he approached and he stepped inside.

The spacious living room, which the front door led into, was unoccupied as he came in. The cleaning droids had already remade the room since he had left that morning. The furniture had been reset in its proper arrangement and all of the dishes and cutlery had been put away. His computer, which was located in the far corner of the room, beside a holoprojector and mini-synthesizer, was already on. He noted this with curiosity as he approached. Any programs that may have been running had been shut down since the computer had been activated, leading him to believe that his son had been playing with it again. He frowned in annoyance, making a mental note to discipline the boy as soon as possible. His mother was smart enough not to touch her husband's things. Why couldn't their son be the same?

"Barren?"

Barren turned his attention away from the computer, towards the woman who was standing in the archway that separated the living room from the dining room. His wife, a woman in her early twenties, stood there, eyeing him critically. Cenia de Turk was not a foolish woman. She had been well educated on Alderaan and knew very well that her husband had not acquired all of his wealth simply trading goods with others. She had quickly deduced his illicit life after their marriage. Cenia, unlike most noblewomen of Alderaan, had embraced her husband's illegal life.

The money he brought in through spice trade with the Hutts of Nar Shadaa and Tatooine paid for her extensive closet and every other commodity she could ever desire. She would have been either a lunatic or a martyr to give all of that up and there was no possibility that she was a martyr. Instead, she had turned her attention to her own interests. At first, she had attended various political seminars and conferences in hopes of becoming a member of the senate in days to come. She soon grew dissatisfied, however, and left the program. No other career had called to her though. In the long run, she had simply decided to enjoy the wealth her husband brought to her and turn a blind eye to his imperfections.

She was even willing to overlook the adulterous affairs that he had with various women of varying species. She simply ignored the bills that came to her when she left the house for a few days and he ignored the security footage that proved her husband guilty of promiscuity. She had everything that she wanted. The fact that her spouse was willing to take underage alien women into their bed was not her concern.

The governor's decree was, however. If the Republic government became involved in the planet's governing, the criminals would be discovered for sure and shut down. There was simply not enough money on the planet to bribe each and every representative from Coruscant that would come if rumors of spice trade began to spread. Her life of pampering would be over. Therefore, she was forced to take a serious look at her husband and his affairs.

"I heard on the holonet that that bastard intends to shut you down," she informed her husband.

"Did he mention me by name?" Barren asked as he took a seat in front of his computer.

"Not him," she responded. "Just the news people."

"Was I mentioned?" he demanded with more force.

"You, as well as several of your friends," she confirmed.

Barren swore colorfully, slamming his hand into the arm of his chair. "Typical," he muttered under his breath. "What else did they say?" He flashed her a deadly look, hinting that she should answer quickly before he lost his temper.

"Several spice facilities have already been shut down, Barren. Two of them were in your sector. They already have enough evidence to send you to jail."

"They'll never find me," he stated flatly as he stood up. "I smuggle spice off of this planet everyday. It will be no harder to smuggle myself out."

"And what about me?" Cenia demanded bitterly as she stepped forward. "Will you really just leave me here to die?"

"Now darling, I believe you're being a bit dramatic," he sneered at her. "Surely you will not die so quickly."

"No, but I will waste away in prison for your crimes," she returned with acid in her tone. "while you lay on the sands of some tropical planet lightyears away from here."

"I'm sure a suitable arbiter can be found for you. Perhaps the sentencing could be reduced. Surely not every judge on this damnable planet can be bought with speeches of justice and a better future. Money must still talk to someone."

With this, Cenia lost her temper. She raised her hand and slapped her husband clean across the cheek, leaving a red mark that stung him slightly. Aghast, he placed his own hand over the place where her hand had made contact. "How dare you," he snarled at her as he approached her violently.

Barren grabbed his wife by the shoulders, his eyes filled with blood. He hurled her towards the nearby sofa. His aim was off, though, and she crashed into the glass table that stood in front of it. The glass did not shatter, thankfully, but it had hit the woman hard. A large red welt had appeared on her forehead, where the blow had connected. She barely had time to register this injury, however, as her husband rounded on her. He pulled her to her feet by the collar of her dress, tearing part of it in the process.

Unnoticed by either of the two enraged adults, a small boy stood in the hallway, looking into the living room in terror. He saw his father striking his mother, just as he had seen so many times before. His mother screamed in pain each time a blow connected, causing her son to wince in fright. There was nothing that he could do to stop the older man. The boy was only seven years old. He had neither the strength, nor the courage to attack a mad man like his father. He simply stayed out of sight and out of mind. He knew that if his father were to discover him, he too would receive numerous beatings. It had happened before. In fact, he still nursed a large bruise on his left shoulder, from where his father had struck him with a lamp. The result had been a dislocated limb, which, as one might imagine, had been quite painful. The boy had cried for days and it was likely that the injury would never fully heal.

The boy closed his eyes and turned away. He hated his father. He wanted to make him stop hurting his mother, who had been nothing but kind and loving to him since he was born. His fists clenched tightly and his muscles began to twitch with rage. Unbeknownst to anyone, the pictures that hung from the walls and the ornamental table settings on the dining room table began to shake. Low rattles could be heard as the porcelain plates and cups clattered against the glass top table.

Revan de Turk stormed off towards his bedroom, unable to watch the horrific scene any longer.

--

The feeble old governor of Deralia hobbled over to his desk, taking a seat in his black chair. He sighed wearily, discouraged and disillusioned by the outcry that had responded to his decree. He didn't understand. Why would the people be against the idea of cleaning up the streets? How could an individual openly cheer for crime and shun justice? It was a concept that went beyond his ken. The violence had nearly given him a heart attack as well. More than one wealthy "law abiding" citizen had attempted to kill him at the assembly for his ruling, which had resulted in a great many powerful individuals ending up in jail. The white haired man sighed, resting his head in the palm of his hand.

He was an old man. Years in the Republic senate had been nothing like working as the governor of a corrupt core world. There had been greedy senators and overly ambitious political leaders, but it had been nothing compared to dealing with common folk nobles that had everything at stake. He had expected justice to maintain, the way he believed it did on Coruscant. The four months that he had spent on Deralia had greatly changed his view on politics though. Stress and corruption had taken an almost physical toll on him. His already white hair was beginning to recede, becoming thinner with each passing week. The once nimble and thin form he had possessed had been replaced by a bulkier, less well maintained one as a result of stress eating. In the last four months, he had gone from a sixty-three year old man to a ninety-seven year old one. He felt sick constantly. There weren't enough hours in the day to perform his duties and the lack of sleep had affected his political performance. He was no longer the charismatic man he had once been. This planet had broken him. He was nothing more than a husk, a shell of his former self.

"I warned you that this was to be expected," a much younger woman spoke as she emerged from her hiding place in the corner of the room. "You should have listened."

The governor looked up at her, reluctant to agree with what was clearly true. He could feel bile rising up in his throat as a result of the arrogant woman's haughty words. Her condescending tone made him feel insignificant, which was the last thing he needed at the moment. Still, he knew he needed to be respectful. She was, after all, a Jedi.

"Master Jedi," he responded softly. "what am I to do?"

The woman frowned as she took a seat in a chair behind the governor's desk. She shook her head, unsure of how to respond. "If you had followed my advice initially, it would have been simple. I honestly don't know what you should do now."

"You're a Jedi!" he cried desperately, perspiration forming on his brow.

With a sigh, the Jedi stood up and approached the politician, her brown eyes narrowed. She pushed a lock of her wavy brown hair back, trying to force herself to conjure up some sympathy for the man. As a rule, she generally despised politicians. This spineless old man was no exception. As a Jedi, she was bound by her oath to help him, however, and would not turn away from that.

She was about to respond to his outburst when an aid burst into the room through the old double doors that were still in use in the governor's office, holding a datapad in her hand. She zipped towards the governor, ignoring the Jedi completely. He took the pad and scanned the contents quickly, his face turning a shade paler as he did so.

"What is it?" the Jedi asked.

"Barren de Turk," the old man replied. "He donated over seven million credits to the cause just last month…"

"Is he dead?" she asked.

"No… he owns at least four spice production plants and two farms."

"Then he is no better than the rest of the criminals, Governor," the Jedi said firmly.

"But he supports the cause!" he responded.

"He lied!" she snapped. "He wanted to buy you off, just as he would any other politician with any other political agenda!"

"I can't believe this," the governor whined. "I…I just…"

"A man with that many facilities is no street dealer, sir. He is one of the crime lords that have destroyed this planet's good name!"

"He's my friend!"

"He must be dealt with!" she said as she turned away, rolling her eyes. "You, girl," the Jedi said to the aid. "I want a security force to rendezvoused with me at this de Turk's home. They are not to proceed until I have arrived and taken control of the situation." The aid nodded and scrambled to complete her task. The Jedi began to follow her towards the door. She stopped to give one last piece of advice to the broken politician in the room behind her. "You should have heeded my words, Governor. Your entire planet may very well suffer the consequences of your foolishness."

With that, the Jedi stepped out, closing the ancient double doors behind her. Once alone, the governor began to weep. It was a pitiful sight. Tears stained his cheeks for the first time in years. In his mind, he replayed the memory of the day's assembly. He could see the viciousness of his own people directed towards him. He could still see the red skinned Twi'lek lunge at him in a violent attempt to end his life. Then there had been the Zabrak, who had drawn a blaster in the middle of a crowded room. The security force had been forced to kill that one. The sight of the dead alien's body hitting the ground, smoke still rising from the hole in the middle of his chest was still with him. It made the governor shake to think he had failed his people in such a way that they would be so inclined to remove him from the galaxy than to give him a second chance.

It was over. He was finished being the figure of hate for an entire planet. He had given it his all and now it was time for it to end. Slowly, the old man's shaking hand moved towards the drawer on the right side of his desk. It slid open smoothly. There was only one thing inside: a Czerka Corporation D9-4LL blaster pistol. The governor's trembling hand slid around the grip of the weapon and his index finger rested softly on the trigger. The barrel of the weapon was trained on his head and said one final prayer before squeezing the trigger.

--

The Jedi Knight hopped out of her speeder less than an hour later and saw four men in Deralian military attire approaching her. She could only assume that this was the security team that she had called for and that they would be escorting her in the capture of Barren de Turk. One man among the group stepped forward and saluted her, which she, not having much experience with the military, found odd. Still, she tossed the meaningless gesture aside and focused on the man.

"Are you in charge of this operation?" she asked him.

"Yes Ma'am," he replied with a nod. "Private Leol of the Deralian Planetary Defense program. We've been ordered to deter to you for all orders on this mission, Master Jedi."

"Have you scanned the house?"

"Scanners indicate two droids posted at every entrance and several more within the estate. There are only three humans inside."

"Which side has the least number of droids?" she asked, gesturing towards the house where two droids standing guard at the front door kept their eyes trained on her.

"At the moment, they are all equally guarded. Infiltration may be difficult. The scanner found numerous illegal combat programs running inside of each droid. They're more deadly than any security-bot that we've ever seen." Recalling a previous mission that had required her to shut down a factory filled with wardroids, the Jedi shrugged, confident that she would be able to breach their defenses.

"Follow me, then. Keep your energy shields activated," she ordered.

"Yes Ma'am," the private said again as he snapped off another salute.

The Jedi turned towards the mansion. The droids had already spotted them. It was likely that they were inactive because they were not currently on the property. Still, it was likely that those two droids had sent warnings to every other droid on the grounds and that trying to sneak in would no longer be an option. They would have to use the front door.

"Let's go," she said as she unclipped her lightsaber from her boma hide utility belt.

The Jedi started towards the grounds, the hilt of her inactive saber already pointing upwards towards her chest, ready to block any stray shots that may be directed her way. The moment her foot passed onto the de Turk property, both droids raised their blaster rifles and took careful aim.

"Intruder, you do not have authorization to come onto this property. Please leave or we will be forced to open fire."

The Jedi quickly called upon the Force to enhance her physical traits, allowing her to clear the ten meters between her and the two droids in just a few seconds. The droids, unprepared for such agility from an organic, were too slow to respond. The Jedi created an invisible bubble around her body, which exploded in every direction. This sent the droids sprawling backwards. One smashed into the front door and exploded on impact. The other landed in the bushes of the estate, where it became tangle within the foliage. Knowing that there was little time to act, the Jedi pulled the front door open with her mind and ran into the house.

Outside of the house, however, the four security officers were unable to follow her. The rest of the droids that guarded the perimeter had been alerted to the situation and were quickly flocking towards their position. Each officer grabbed his blaster and began opening fire on anything metallic that moved.

Inside of the house, the door slid shut behind the Jedi as soon as she relinquished it from her will. She took in the room at a glance and sighed with relief when she realized that there were no battle droids inside. Her heart rate had sped up considerably and she closed her eyes, allowing a semi-meditative trance to wash over her for just a moment. Once she was calm, she opened her eyes again and stepped forward. There was no one inside of the room with her, though she could sense the presence of at least three people in the house.

Her ears perked up quickly though, as she heard a faint noise coming from a nearby room. She listened closely, trying to push the sound of blaster fire outside of the house out of her mind. The noise was muffled, as if something were blocking the source from properly expressing itself. As she moved further into the house, the sound became more pronounced. Someone was moaning in what sounded like pain. She frowned, trying to concentrate on where it was located. A faint noise could be heard from down the hall, probably originating from one of the bedrooms or another family room. She couldn't be sure.

The Jedi moved stealthily through the halls as a precaution till she came upon the closed door. Things were easy. It was unlocked. It silently slid back, allowing her to enter. The _snap-hiss _sound of a lightsaber igniting filled the room as the Jedi advanced on Barren de Turk, brandishing her weapon threateningly. As it turned out, he had been assaulting her in another living room, similar to the first. The only notable difference was that there were smears and stains of blood on the floor. This out of control abuse had obviously been going on for some time. A look of disgust crossed the Jedi's features. Her lip curled into a snarl at the man, who was backing away from her slowly.

"This is not your business, Jedi," he warned her.

As he backed away, she advanced, keeping the tip of her emerald hued blade trained on his neckline. "Barren de Turk, I presume," she said as he reached the wall, making it impossible for him to increase the distance between the two of them. "You are under arrest for crimes against the state… and for assault and battery."

"With what evidence?" he stammered.

"For which crime?" she asked with a smirk.

The Deralian noble bit his lip, unsure of what he should do in order to escape from the woman that was pointing a very dangerous weapon at him. He had never felt the sting of a lightsaber, or any energy based weapon for that matter, but he did not feel that it was a great loss. He gulped deeply, his beady eyes darting around the room, searching for something he could use to save himself. His wife was still on the ground. Cenia had sustained several injuries within the scope of the last hour and she was bleeding in several places. There was a large gash across her forehead and welts covered her entire body. Her outfit was tattered and torn and she was lying there, simply moaning in pain and misery. He kept no weapons in the living rooms, though now he wished that he did. The thought of the LH-09 blaster pistol that was hidden beneath his pillow or the KA-74 plasma rifle that was in his closet had never seemed to far away. He was trapped and he knew it.

"I have credits," he offered her with a smile. Even a Jedi couldn't reject the amount of money that he was about to offer. "I am willing to transfer fifteen million credits into any account of your choice in exchange for my freedom."

"A Jedi cannot be bought with credits, de Turk," she informed him. "I suggest that you surrender yourself."

Outside of the second living room, de Turk's son, Revan, was peering in on the scene that was unraveling before his very eyes. A smile crossed his face when he saw the Jedi woman that was threatening his father. It was just like a holovid. The Jedi Knight was a hero who had come to save him and his mother. She looked just like the Jedi on the holonet, right down to the robes she wore. She was standing in an unsophisticated fencing stance, with one foot forward. The knee of the outstretched leg was bent slightly, while the tip of her blade was trained perfectly on her enemy. Her wrist was even twisted upward in order to angle the blade, rather than amateurishly holding the hilt in a lower position that pointed upwards. She was fascinating to the boy. He wanted to see the battle that would soon erupt between the Jedi Knight and his father better, causing him to enter the room excitedly.

Unfortunately, the boy's entrance gave his father the only chance he needed. "Revan," the man said allowed to his son.

The Jedi turned around, seeing the boy for the first time. "What is this?" she asked in utter confusion, having not sensed the boy's presence until he had made himself known.

The momentary distraction was all that Barren de Turk would need in order to make his escape. He grabbed some sort of knick-knack off of a nearby shelf and pelted it at the Jedi's hand. She moved her saber slightly to incinerate the object, which took it away from his neck. He darted to his left and ran passed the Jedi. "Move!" he shouted at Revan as he barreled past his son, knocking the poor child off his feet.

The Jedi clenched her fist and the door to the room slid shut, trapping the man inside. "Come quietly and you will not be harmed," she told him.

There were roughly five meters separating the Jedi and her prisoner and in that space, Cenia and Revan de Turk waited, with the former being closer physically to her husband. Barren saw only one choice. He grabbed his wife by her blood matted curls and pulled her to her feet. She yelped in pain but her husband had lost any sympathy he had ever had. He placed his arm over her neck, threatening to crush it if the Jedi took another step.

"Open the door," he commanded.

"This will not save you, de Turk," the young Jedi stated coldly.

"Open the damn door!"

"Let her go, Daddy!" Revan said pleadingly as he stood up and approached his parents.

"Shut up!" he snapped at the boy. "If you really want your mother to live, get that Jedi to open the door!"

Barren's next action was the last one he would regret. A nearby footstool had been turned over during the struggle with his wife. His foot happened to be near it and he thoughtlessly kicked it towards his son. The furniture piece clobbered the boy, knocking him off of his feet a second time. That was the last straw. Seven years of neglect, which had then turned into contempt and abuse finally caught up with the child. He screamed in rage as he got to his feet.

The Jedi's brown eyes widened as a surge went thundering through the Force, knocking the very breath out of her. "Wow," she breathed in awe as she felt the sheer power that the boy was radiating. There were no traces of light or dark in his aura, despite the rage that clearly fueled him. A moment later, she noticed that the lightsaber in her hand was beginning to wobble.

"Child, no!" she screamed, realizing what was about to happen.

The weapon slid out of her hand, flying straight to the young boy. He caught it with what looked like practiced ease, despite his young age. The Force propelled the boy as he leapt at his father. The mother screamed and shut her eyes, while Barren's went wide. He barely had time to register what was happening before the saber connected with his Adam's apple. The scent of burnt flesh filled the room as the blade tore through his neck, cauterizing the skin as it went.

"By the Living Force," the Jedi breathed as she watched the head of the boy's father fall from his shoulders and plummet to the ground. Mortified by what she had just seen, the Jedi turned her attention to the boy. His mother had fallen to the ground, unconscious as a result of shock. The boy was standing there, holding the Jedi weapon with both hands. He was looking at his father's body. The emotions in his aura were difficult to decipher. He didn't seem to be pleased with himself, nor did it appear that he was ashamed. There was no joy, as if he had killed his father in a childish accident. There was definitely no regret. He just seemed… normal. Did the boy realize what he had done? It appeared that he had intended to hurt his father when he had struck. The rage and fury that had been there just a moment ago had vanished.

The boy, Revan, turned to the Jedi Knight and walked over to her, carefully holding up her still active lightsaber. She accepted the weapon, closing down the blade with her thumb as she did. The two locked eyes. The woman, who had seen many things in her time as a Jedi, began to probe his eyes, looking for some explanation as to what had just happened.

Revan seemed to pick up on her confusion and simply said, "He was a bad man. It needed to be done."

_Interesting._ The Jedi thought to herself as she returned her lightsaber to her belt. "What is your name, child?" she asked him.

"Revan," he replied simply. "What's your name?"

"I am Kreia," the Jedi responded as she squatted down, putting her on the child's height level.

She studied him closely, committing every feature to memory for future reference. The boy was powerful. His power within the Force was nearly invisible at the moment but she had seen it swirling within him like a powerful tempest just seconds before. She could not ignore this sort of child. His potential was almost as great as some of the most powerful Jedi Masters. The council needed to hear of the events that had just occurred.

"Well young Revan, we should call for medical assistance," the Jedi woman stated as she gestured towards the unconscious form of Cenia de Turk. "Your mother has had a rough day."

The boy turned to his mother and nodded at her. "They're not going to help my father, are they?" he asked nervously. "He'll be angry at me if he wakes up."

"I assure you, Revan, that your father will not wake up," she informed him dryly as she stood up straight.

**And this is the first chapter of my Origin Series. This is going to be a very large, long term project that will basically give the play by play of the KOTOR universe, ending with the actual game. It will detail the stories of Revan, obviously, as well as Malak, Coryn Mishakal, (the Jedi Exile) Kreia, and several others. Whether or not I bother to write the game is still up in the air though. There are so many different novelizations of both games on this site. I'm not sure I see the value in adding another one. Still, that's a long way off and we'll see what you, my readers, say at that point. To be honest, I wrote this as a supplement to my story, ****The Darkest Lord. ****I plan on updating that soon by the way. **


	2. Accepted

**White Light**

**Chapter II: Accepted  
**

The Jedi Knight known as Kreia slowly stepped into the chambers of the Jedi Council, he brown dewback hide boots clapping softly against the amber colored tile of the room. She took long, confident strides into the center of the room and felt the eyes of the entire collection of Jedi Masters fall squarely on her. There were twelve members of the Order that had been assigned seats on the High Council of Coruscant. Only six were present.

The Grand Master of the Order, Master Kaled, could not be in attendance, having some business with the Chancellor to attend. Therefore, the interim Grand Master, Vandar Tokare, was authorized to make all decisions regarding the matter that Knight Kreia chose to bring before the group. The bronze colored alien, one of the last of his species, sat in a small seat at the head of the room. His small, child-sized robes were neatly pressed and well kept. Their navy color had not faded in the least, indicating that they were very new. A small lightsaber, coated in a golden colored Electrum, hung from the brown sash-like belt that he wore. His glossy eyes were closed and his head tilted. The forehead rested comfortably his two claw-like hands, which clutched the head of a whittled wooden cane.

To his left, a younger Jedi Master, maybe in his early forties, sat with his legs crossed. Even in his relative youth, the man had already started balding and traces of his short brown hair were beginning to fade. His face had a gruff cast to it and small traces of darkness matted his lower jaw, indicating a scruffy tone. His skin was whiter than most of Coruscant's citizens, indicating that he had been born off world, though it was difficult to determine a planet of origin based on appearance alone. His robes were kept just as neat as his superior's and none of the luster or crimson color had faded in the least. Judging by his age alone, given that he appeared to be only a few years older than Kreia, she determined that this was Vrook Lamar, the newly appointed member of the Jedi Council.

The chair beside Vrook was empty, as was the one following it. In the chair after that, a Twi'lek, a sickly pink color in complexion, sat. This was the infamous Zhar Lestin. Unlike the other Jedi Masters that sat upon the council, this alien had a far darker history. Before he had become a Jedi, the Twi'lek had been unable to control his Force abilities and had been responsible for several deaths on Ryloth before being sent to the Coruscant for training. He had been several years past the age limit where a Twi;lek was allowed to join the Order but his severe circumstances compelled the Jedi to accept him anyways. It was for this reason that she hoped that she would find pity from him. Revan de Turk was not so different from the Jedi Master. Both had inadvertently used their powers to kill before they had any form of Jedi training and Revan, like Lestin, was technically too old to become a Jedi. Provided that the Force willed it, the Twi'lek would be a key figure in Revan's acceptance into the Jedi Academy.

Across from Zhar was another, more compassionate member of the Jedi. Master Nomi Sunrider was almost in her late fifties now. She had served the Jedi faithfully for almost thirty years but she, like Zhar, had been trained very late in life. Not only that, Nomi was a living exception to just about every edict and code that the Jedi followed. She had not "kept her body pure" but remaining abstinent from the impurities of the flesh. Her only known apprentice was her own daughter, another violation. The fiery haired woman would also prove useful in solidifying Revan's place. Unfortunately, she didn't look her best. Nomi's normally chipper face was glazed over, as if she had not slept in several days. Her fine cloth robes were rumpled and her normally vibrant red hair had lost some of its luster. To Kreia, it looked as if she was under a lot of stress. Hopefully that wouldn't dissuade her from listening to her plea. If so, then the cause might be lost. Despite her youth, at least by Jedi Master standards, most of the other councilors looked to her for guidance. She was highly respected within the order for her role in the Naddist uprising and the Great Sith War with Exar Kun and Ulic Qel-Droma.

Sitting two chairs from Nomi, without a chair of any sort, was a horned, rhino quadruped with large spines on his back. Believe it or not, this creature was also a Jedi; one who had helped to defend the Republic many times in his day. Master Thon was the only known Tchuukthai Jedi known in the galaxy. His species lived in the outer regions of space, beyond the authority of the known Republic. Most citizens mistook him for a savage beast, distantly related to a cannok. For this reason, the government's had named him of the "wharl" species, which they themselves had invented. Though Thon had not spoken out against this, the old Jedi Master was not fond of the term and preferred to be refered to simply as a Tchuukthai for simplicity.

The last Jedi Master, who was supposed to have joined them for this meeting was currently not present. Kreia looked about the room eagerly, hoping to find the familiar face of Master Kallion. Unfortunately, she was not present at the moment and Kreia feared that this would be a major blow to her cause. There was no time to reflect on it however. She needed to focus on the present and not what could have been.

"Knight Kreia, why have you come before us?" Vrook inquired, his gruff tone implying that he was less than pleased at the disturbance to his otherwise unproductive day.

"I have to discuss a matter of vast importance with you, Masters," she replied, trying to keep her voice respectful, despite the rude greeting that she had just received. She needed to be diplomatic if she was to succeed. Getting into a petty conflict with Vrook just because he was being rude would be more detrimental than effective.

"If it is with regards to your failure on Deralia, we are well aware of the situation. Reports have been coming in for days!"

"Master Vrook, calm yourself," Nomi instructed as she sat up a little straighter. "You are letting your new authority as councilor impede your rationality. Behave yourself!"

Vrook turned indignantly at the older Jedi Master, a sneer on his lips, along with a cold remark. He caught himself before he could insult the senior councilor. Instead, he dourly turned down his head and pretended to meditate on the matter at hand, which still had not been announced. Once the younger, more aggressive master had been subdued, Nomi took over the conclave. "Please Kreia, continue," she said politely.

"I am well aware that my work on Deralia was a failure. I couldn't stop the rise of criminal activity that has now engulfed the planet."

"Your actions were less than stellar," Zhar stated calmly as he crossed his legs in his seat. "The governor is dead. Spice trade is running rampant in that sector. Illegal weapons and modifications are being sold on the black market and have been used to repel Republic forces. The Secretary of Inter-Planetary Commerce and the Secretary of Galactic Safety both believe that this sordid affair is our fault. They've demanded that Jedi reinforcements be sent to Deralia to act as soldiers to regain control of the planet."

"I am sorry but that is not what I have come to discuss, my masters," she said in terse response.

"But you must understand the severity of the situation," Vandar said severely. "This crisis reflects very badly on the Jedi Order as a whole."

"Masters, understand me," she tried to explain. "I understand that the situation on Deralia is both an embarrassment to the Jedi and a danger to the galaxy. But a more important matter arose while I was on my mission."

"A more important matter?" Vrook repeated, disbelief clear in his speech.

"Give her a chance to explain," Thon ordered as he sat up on his hind legs. "Go on, Knight Kreia."

"Thank you, Master Thon," Kreia said to the alien gratefully, happy that someone was willing to at least hear her story. "While I was on Deralia, I began to work with the local security forces to capture the most influential crime lords. The first man that I intended to capture was a spice trader named Barren de Turk."

"Reports indicate that Barren de Turk is dead," the small bronze alien at the head of the room said matter-of-factly.

"Yes. He is. That's what we need to discuss, Masters. Barren de Turk was not assassinated by a rival criminal sect of the Exchange."

Everyone in the room straightened up in their chair. Thon fell back into a proper seated position, while Nomi turned to look at her former master questioningly. Vrook tensed visibly. Zhar and Vandar both remained calm, though the smaller alien fixed the knight in the center of the room with a dark look.

"Your report specifically stated though that Jampanda the Hutt sent an assassin to kill de Turk!" Vrook accused. "Are you telling us that you purposely put false information into your report, Kreia?"

"Barren de Turk was an abusive husband and father. I left his wife in the care of a medical clinic back on Deralia. His son, however, needed to be treated with extreme caution. He is powerful in the Force. More powerful than anyone in this room, I believe."

Vrook and Zhar scoffed. Nomi rolled her eyes. Thon raised a wide eyebrow. Vandar was the only one who seemed to contemplate the matter seriously. The former four Jedi Masters all made comments. Nomi and her teacher seemed to humor Kreia. The young councilor and his alien companion did no such thing. The small bronze creature, however, inspected Kreia carefully with his glossy eyes.

"I do not sense any deceit in Kreia. Do any of you, Masters?" he asked as he gesticulated towards the young woman with his crawled hand. "This boy, Kreia. What did he do to convince you of his power?"

Kreia gulped deeply. "He executed his father," she stated as calmly as she could. "He used the Force to pull my lightsaber from my grasp, leap into the air, and cut Barren de Turk's head off."

"By the Force!" Thon gasped.

"He took your lightsaber from your hand?" Nomi repeated for clarification. "How?"

"The Force is strong in him, Master," Kreia answered.

"Where is this boy now? Did you bring him here, to Coruscant?" Master Vandar inquired as he hopped out of his small chair and onto his feet.

"He is sitting just outside this very room."

"That can't be!" Vrook sneered. "We would have been able to sense such a strong presence in the Force if he were here!"

"Nonetheless, Master Vrook," the young Jedi Knight replied as she ran a hand through her wavy brown hair. "He is waiting."

"Kreia, bring the boy in to see me. I will speak with him alone. I fear that a full council may frighten him. I will deduce the nature of his power." With this Vandar began to use his cane to walk towards Kreia. She bowed deeply towards him with a reverent flourish.

"Yes Master Vandar."

"I disagree!" the newest councilor cried out as he stood up straight.

"Of course you do, Vrook. You are impatient and arrogant. Such traits are dangerous and often lead to the dark side. You may consider meditating on your place within this council before the next time we meet!" Thon said severely as he got to all four of his feet. "Master Vandar is the council's Grand Master until Kaled returns and we will respect his wishes. If you have a problem, bring them to Master Kaled's attention later."

With that, the Tchuukthai turned away from the rest of the room and started for the door. Nomi Sunrider followed him quickly, while Zhar and Vrook remained behind, grudging the idea of leaving. With a look from their senior councilor, however, they turned and walked away, leaving just Kreia and the interim Grand Master in the room. The Jedi Knight relaxed somewhat, the pressure of having five Jedi Masters breathing down her neck alleviated.

"Kreia," Vandar said as he looked up at her from the floor. "You were wise to bring this child to Coruscant. It may have been the will of the Force that we found him before the Sith. You are to be commended for your actions."

"Thank you, Master," she replied, more at ease now that she knew that the council would at least see the boy. From there, the evidence would be more than enough to ensure his acceptance into the Order.

"You look tired. Rest yourself. It may be some time before the council reaches a verdict."

Kreia nodded and cast her superior one last thankful glance before she turned and started for the door. She wouldn't be able to rest. Her mind would race constantly until she knew that she had secured Revan's place within the Jedi ranks. Oh well. Patience was a virtue and one of the key aspects of being a Jedi Consular. It would do her no good to stand in her quarters, pacing frantically or to go to the library where she would stare at the holobooks without seeing them or the text they contained. Truth of the matter was that it had been many days since she had enjoyed a proper meal or a proper grooming. Both would serve as suitable pass times until a verdict had been delivered.

Stepping outside of the elegant council chambers, into the grand hall of the Room of One Thousand Fountains, Kreia turned to a small boy who was waiting impatiently beside the door she had just opened. "They all just left," he reported anxiously. "Have they made a decision?" he asked her.

"No Revan," she told the small boy as she knelt down beside him. "Our Grand Master, Kaled, is away on important business. His second in command wants to speak to you though. His name is Master Vandar and he is one of the strongest Jedi I've ever met."

"Why?" Revan asked, scratching his head.

"I do not know but we should not keep him waiting. Be respectful, Revan."

"Ok," he mumbled as he stood up.

"And may the Force be with you," she said, uttering the age old Jedi equivalent to "good luck."

She watched as Revan stepped into the council chambers and closed her eyes, uttering a silent prayer to the Force itself.

Inside, Revan slowly walked into the room, where Master Vandar stood in the center. His bronze complexion was a welcoming one. Still, the young boy had never met an alien of the Jedi Master's species and he was a little put off by the centuries old creature's appearance. "Master Vandar?" he asked suspiciously.

"Yes," he replied with a nod. "And what is your name?"

"Revan de Turk," he replied as he continued to look around the room, the glass wall catching his attention. He brushed past the powerful man in front of him and walked over to it, awed by the sight of the unending traffic flow and skyscraping spires of the Galactic Republic's capital world. Vandar smiled at this, his floppy ears perking up as he did. He slowly hobbled over to where the seven year old stood, practically gaping at the majesty of the core world he was on.

"Remarkable, isn't it?"

"Yes sir," Revan replied with a nod.

"Revan, do you want to be a Jedi?"

Revan turned away from the bustling city before him and thought about the question for a minute before he nodded. The old Jedi looked the boy, who was roughly his height, if not a bit taller, and saw nothing remarkable about him. The sheer power that Kreia described did not seem to be present, yet the woman had seem convinced that it existed.

"Not everyone can be a Jedi," he stated to see the boy's reaction.

"I can," the Deralian child responded. "I'm real strong."

"Why do you say that?" he pushed.

"I can make things fly. Mother didn't like it though. She told me that Father would sell me to the Exchange if he found out."

Vandar frowned at the story. Kreia's report had indicated that Barren de Turk had been a cruel man. Anyone who beat his wife and only son was a monster in his opinion but to sell your own child into slavery was nothing short of Sith-like. While he did value life in all of its forms, the diminutive bronze alien couldn't help but feel that the boy was better off without his father. The question of the mother still remained. Cenia de Turk was not dead. Kreia had taken the boy from his mother without the consent of the Jedi and, given her willingness to lie in an official report about de Turk's cause of death, it was possible that she had taken him without the mother's consent as well. Despite the fact that Vandar would accept all younglings of Force sensitivity into the Jedi Order, he could not condone violations of family life for that reason. If Mrs. de Turk wanted her boy returned to her, he would have no choice but to dismiss the child. That fact aside, he didn't seem to be powerful like Kreia insisted. The Force was there, sure, but not to a high enough degree that he could be trained to harness it. If this "power" did not surface relatively soon, then he wouldn't be admitted into the academy. Provided that the mother had indeed relinquished her rights to her son, Revan would be placed in a foster care system, which wasn't always the best path for a child.

He needed to be sure that Revan wasn't lying about having telekinetic abilities. "Can you make something in this room fly for me?" he asked in a tone that showed nothing but disbelief. He did doubt the child but there was more to it than that. Control of the Force at the age of seven was rare. Certain emotional stimulus, such as a challenge or a conflict, was often needed in order to draw out hidden strength. To his surprise, it worked.

Revan closed his brown eyes and began to concentrate. All of a sudden, Vandar could feel the Force in the air around him, as if it had been electrically charged with energy. His glassy eyes went wide as he felt the energy converge on him and hoist his small form into the air. His small feet left the floor and his cane fell from his hand in shock. The Jedi Master gasped in sudden shock and let out a short cry before he realized something. Revan was in control. The boy hadn't haphazardly tossed him up into the air to let him go soaring. He was actually holding him in place in the air, almost two feet above the ground. This realization caused him to let out a small awed sigh.

"Impressive," he stated. "You can let me down now, son." Gradually, the energy left the air and he was returned back down the floor. The small alien took a moment to straighten his robes and collect his cane before turning back to the young Deralian.

"Can I be a Jedi?" Revan asked him hopefully.

Vandar didn't give Revan an answer that day. In fact, Revan was sent down to the medical center of the academy for some reason. He didn't understand why but immediately after he had shown Master Vandar that he could fly things, the Jedi Master had shooed him away hurriedly and excitedly. All that Revan was told that he needed to check on some things before he could answer the question. Dejectedly, the poor child did as he was told. He walked with an escort to the medical facility. The Jedi who walked him there, a man called Dorak, seemed to be very nice. The dark skinned Jedi Master left him in the care of an Aqualish nurse, who sent him into a hospital room.

"Why do I have to be here?" he asked his nurse.

The woman answered his question but it was in her own native tongue so Revan didn't really understand any of it. "What?" he asked.

The nurse was used to being misunderstood by children and decided that it would be best to leave the boy in the care of another attending physician. She slid a chart that she had been filling out into the tray at the foot of his bed and left the room, despite her patient's protests. Sure enough, a Jedi Healer came in to see Revan just a few minutes later. "Hello!" he called out jovially as he entered the room. "What can I do for you today?"

"Why do I have to be here?" he repeated to the new doctor, a Twi'lek male with a vibrant green pigmented skin.

The man chuckled at him and said something in the Ryloth language that was native to him. "Because," he told Revan. "All new Jedi have to have a physical examination before they can join the Order."

"But why?" he urged his new doctor.

"To make sure that you're not too sick to be a Jedi," the alien explained as he used the Force to grab Revan's chart and began to examine it.

"But if a person is sick, why can't they become Jedi?"

The doctor paused and looked up from the chart. "Well Revan," he said solemnly. "Being a Jedi isn't easy. You have to be strong in order to keep up with the demands of your missions. People who aren't strong enough can't be Jedi."

Revan frowned at this. "That's wrong though!" he argued. "You're a doctor! You don't need to be strong to fix people. My doctor back at home was a fat man. He took good care of me. He wasn't strong."

"Jedi are a little bit different, son," he remarked with a wave of his hand.

"But you're a Jedi. What do you need to be strong for in order to do your mission?"

"I…" the doctor stopped. He opened his mouth to finish his statement and then closed it again. He tried once more but the result was the same. After several minutes he sighed deeply. "You have wisdom far beyond your years, Revan." His voice wasn't angry, as one might expect. He was simply impressed that a boy so young could display such analysis and insight to the policies of the Jedi. "It's elitist," he murmured. "You should tell Master Vandar your opinions of the situation. I'm sure that he would be most interested to hear what you have to say."

"When will I see him again?" the Deralian child asked.

"Soon. Very soon, I'd wager."

"Good. I'll tell him. Then he can change the Jedi."

The Twi'lek chuckled as he moved around Revan's bed and opened a cabinet where certain medical supplies were kept. A set of injection syringes, without needles, were stacked inside. He pulled one out, along with one of the many glass vials inside. It took him a moment to screw the vial into the syringe before he moved towards Revan. "I promise, you won't even feel this," he said in an assuring tone as he took his patient's arm in hand. The very front of the device was placed against the skin of the young boy's elbow. The doctor pulled the trigger, activating it.

In less than one second flat, a suction device was able to extract exactly ten cubic centimeters worth of blood from Revan's vein, spit it into the vial, and seal it off so that none would escape. The Deralian child jumped slightly but it did not hurt. When the device was removed, there was only a small, circular shaped bruise where it had been.

Silently, the doctor moved over to his computer terminal and injected the blood sample into a receptacle for vials. It took a little less than a minute for the scan to register. Reading the screen, the doctor started to make notes on his clipboard, nodding as he did. "Blood type, K neutral. Blood pressure, normal. Lymphocyte count, normal. Midi-chlorian count…" He stopped short of saying the actual number that the computer was reading. "That's… there must be a mistake." He turned and looked at the child sitting in his bed and then back to the computer. "That's impossible."

"Wait here!" he instructed before bustling out of the room.

"Ok," Revan said after he had already left. The seven year old leaned back in his bed, not sure of what to do next. The room was a boring one. There were two medical beds, one of which he was sitting in and the other was currently empty. He bit his lip and sighed deeply. Despite the advanced wisdom that he had used to awe his doctor, Revan was still a seven year old and a seven year old didn't have a very long attention span, regardless of the circumstances.

He sat up in his bed and hopped onto the floor. He started towards the door and slipped out into the hallway. There didn't seem to be anybody else around, other than a few maintenance droids, none of whom cared that a patient was out of bed. Revan quickly snuck past them though and ran down the hall, into the next wing. The medical ward was behind him now and he was in an entirely different section of the Temple. The digital readout on the wall indicated that the library was just down the hall.

"I like to learn," he mumbled to himself as he started down towards the Jedi Archives. He crept down the hall until he found a large door, which he pushed open. Inside was the biggest library that he had ever seen. "Wow!" he gasped to himself as he looked inside.

The room he walked into was a vast chamber of ancient Jedi knowledge, dating back to before the First Great Schism, where the first Dark Jedi broke away from the Order and went on to form the Sith Order. Rows upon rows of bookcases lined the floors, each one filled with holobooks. The books were all Jedi manufactured and all gave off a soft blue glow, which emanated throughout the room due to the sheer number of the crystalline datatracks. It gave the hall of ancient wisdom an eerie feeling to it; one that was fitting, given what was housed within.

As Revan walked through the door, several Jedi were around, studying the age old records and making notes in their datapads. They all ignored Revan as he aimlessly wandered around, still awed by what he saw. His father's private library back on Deralia hadn't been so expansive. Not even close. Randomly, he ran up to a shelf and pulled out a holobook. He tapped the button that would allow him to interface with it and sure enough, the holographic image of a Jedi Knight virtual intelligence unit appeared.

"Authorization Please," it stated monotonously.

"Huh?" Revan asked as he tilted his head at the device.

"Authorization Please," it repeated.

"I don't… huh?"

"It wants your ID number," someone said. Revan turned and looked at the boy who had spoken to him.

"I don't have an ID number," he told the naturally bald child that was now approaching him.

"All Jedi do," the other boy said with a scoff.

"I'm not a Jedi yet. I need to speak with Master Vandar first," the Deralian informed the child that had tried to help him. "What's your name?"

"I'm Malak," he replied. "Who are you?"

"Revan de Turk," he returned.

"Nice to meet you," Malak said as he took the holobook from Revan. "Why are you looking into the jene… gen…"

Revan looked at the label that Malak was trying to read and said "Genealogy," he corrected.

"Right. Why are you looking into the genealogy of cannoks?"

"I just grabbed the first book I could. I didn't really look at the cover," Revan explained. "I wouldn't mind learning about them though. I like learning about just about everything."

"Ugh, you sound like Coryn," Malak groaned. "You'd like her."

"Who's Coryn?"

"She's a friend of mine," the young Jedi explained. "She likes to read a lot though. It's kind of annoying."

"But don't you ever like to learn about the different things that can help you when you go on your missions?"

"I'm too young to go on missions. I will when I'm a real padawan though. I'm just an initiate now. I hope a master picks me soon."

"Malak!" someone shouted from behind the two boys. Malak and Revan turned away from the holobook that the bald child was holding and turned to see an older Jedi standing there, hands on her hips. The initiate sighed in defeat. "Aren't you supposed to be studying?"

"I was. I was trying to help Revan," he argued as the Jedi approached him.

"And who is Revan?" she asked as she looked down at the boy beside her pupil.

"Revan de Turk, ma'am," he told her. "I came to Coruscant with Kreia. I'm waiting to find out from Master Vandar if I can become a Jedi."

The woman raised her eyebrow suspiciously. "And where are you supposed to be right now, Revan de Turk?"

"In the medical wing. My doctor ran out for some reason."

"Well let's get you back in there. Come with me."

Revan did as he was instructed and followed the older Jedi out of the room, unaware that he had just met the boy who would be one of his closest friends for the rest of his life.

Back in the council chambers, Master Vandar had just finished reporting to the rest of the Jedi Masters that sat on the council. After spending a great deal of time pouring over Kreia's report to ensure that Revan had legitimately been taken from the care of Cenia de Turk, he had gone to speak with the Twi'lek healer that had been assigned to take care of the Deralian. The initial blood test had revealed that de Turk had a midi-chlorian count of almost twenty-thousand.

"I believe," he was saying to the other councilors. "that if we let this boy go unguided, he may take the wrong path."

"Agreed," Master Thon stated. "We cannot ignore this threat as we ignored Exar Kun before the Great Sith War erupted."

"This boy," Vrook started gravely. "Is too old. He killed his father in the heat of passion. Letting such a child join our ranks would be dangerous."

"Too old, Master Vrook?" Nomi Sunrider repeated as she stood up. "I was in my thirties before my husband was murdered and I took his place within the Jedi Order. This child is seven! Seven! He is not too old to become a Jedi."

"It is true that we have been willing to make exceptions to this rule in the past," Vandar stated. "And while I firmly believe that we should do so again in this case, you must all follow your own feelings. What is the Force telling you?"

"This boy has the right to know how to control his powers," the fiery haired Jedi Master stated as she retook her seat. "I vote that Revan should be admitted."

"I agree," Thon stated with a nod at his former apprentice. "Master Sunrider is proof that age has no bearing on whether or not a person can become a fine Jedi."

"I disagree," Vrook sneered. "The ancient laws of the Order were set in place for a reason! To ignore them is tantamount to treason! It is the will of the dark side."

"While I do not approve of breaking the ancient laws, as Master Vrook says, I cannot ignore that this boy has potential to become one of the strongest Jedi in the history of our Order. That being said, if we were to simply return him to Deralia, to his mother, or put him into a foster system, the dark side could easily overwhelm him and drive him into the open arms of the Sith. Therefore, I vote that we admit him," Zhar explained.

Vandar looked about the room solemnly. "Then the vote stands at four votes to one, in favor of admitting young Revan de Turk into the Jedi Order." The small bronze alien cast a glance at his close friend and saw that the young Jedi Master was shaking his head ruefully. "I must inform Kreia and the boy of this development. Council adjourned."

With that, all five of the present councilors stood up and started for the door. Vandar stopped abruptly, however, when Vrook walked up to him and knelt before him. "This is a mistake, Vandar!" he warned. "I hope you know what you're doing."

"The Force is with us, my friend. You will come to see that, it time."

The arrogant Jedi scoffed before standing up and walking away at a brisk pace, which his much shorter friend could not hope to keep up with. The small alien sighed before he stood up straight and smiled. This was a cause for celebration, not worry. With that thought, the interim Grand Master started for the medical facility, where the boy would be waiting. Then he needed to inform Kreia that her motion had been passed and that she had a new apprentice.

**Yeah… chapter three should be up much sooner than it took me to post chapter two. Sorry about that. **


End file.
